The Touch Of God


I keep my Bible by my bed,
Upon a bedside stand;
Whenever I walk by it,
I touch it with my hand.

Sometimes I stand a moment,
And let my hand rest there;
Other times I softly pat it,
When I'm on my way elsewhere.


I often hold it to my cheek,
Sometimes I firmly press;
If I'm having anxious moments,
I may hug it to my breast.

Every time I touch my Book,
It's like a prayer is being said;
I don't need to speak aloud,
My touch conveys what's in my head.


Sometimes I have no message,
I just put out my hand;
It's as if for one quick second,
I know God understands.

You know I would not do this,
If I got nothing back;
But I get this wondrous feeling,
Like I've made divine contact.


If I pick it up and carry it,
I am bathed in gentle heat;
I feel it slowly covering me,
From my head down to my feet.

Mostly I just touch my Book,
When I am passing by;
And for a fleeting moment,
I feel I've caught God's eye.


What is this strange phenomenon,
That others may find odd?
I know what it is to me,
It is the touch of God.

~ Virginia Ellis ~
Copyright 2000

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